CHAPTER XXI._Naomi

Marcellus and his father reached the Roman camp in safety on the

preceding night, when they escaped from the plan laid by Simon and

Javan for their destruction. As they descended the hill that lay

between Jerusalem and the Valley of Thorns, the vast encampment lay

before them like a fortified city. A large space had been cleared

and levelled by the pioneers; and there, in an incredibly short time,

the camp was formed according to the usual plan of the Roman army.

It was an exact square, and surrounded on every side by a strong

rampart about twelve feet high, the top of which was armed with a

line of almost impenetrable palisades; and a ditch, twelve feet wide

and twelve deep, also ran at the foot of the rampart as a further

security. These prodigious works were executed by the soldiers

themselves, who were accustomed to use a spade or a pickaxe with

almost as much readiness as a sword or spear, and were always kept

employed in some useful manner by their commanders when not engaged

in the actual duties of warfare. A vacant space of two hundred feet

in width was left inside the ramparts, and the tents were pitched in

the remaining portion of the vast enclosure. They were arranged so

as to form broad and straight streets, and in the centre of the whole

rose the lofty and magnificent pavilions of Titus, ornamented with

the emblem of the eagle, so sacred in the eyes of every Roman

soldier. A strong tower had been already erected at each corner of

the camp, and the intervening space withinside the rampart was lined

with scorpions, catapultas, balistas, and other ponderous and

dreadful engines of destruction. A handsome gate was placed in the

rampart on each side of the encampment, sufficiently wide to admit

the broad and heavy waggons and military carriages that attended the

movements of the army; and also of strong detachments of troops

sallying forth with unbroken ranks.

The strictest order and decorum were preserved throughout this

populous camp, which were rigidly enforced by the general and his

subordinate officers. The soldiers were summoned by the sound of

trumpets to their regular meals, and the same signal warned them when

it was time to retire to rest, or to arise and begin the business of

the day. The clear blast of the evening trumpet was sounding through

the camp when Rufus and Marcellus entered the gateway; and ere they

reached the quarters of Titus the wide streets were almost deserted,

and none remained abroad except those whose duty it was to patrol the

different districts, and keep watch while their comrades slept.

The expedition in which Marcellus had that night been engaged was

known and permitted by the general, with whom he was a great

favourite. Titus had listened with considerable interest to the

story of his attachment to the young Jewess, and would willingly have

done anything in his power to rescue her from the dangers to which

she must soon be exposed; but no open measures could be of any avail,

and he could only hope that the scheme of his young friend might be

crowned with success. He allowed him to take from the ranks of his

own troop such a number of men as he might think sufficient for his

purpose, and gave orders that he and his attendants should be

permitted to pass unquestioned through the gates of the camp at any

hour, either of the day or night. He had sympathized in the

disappointment of Marcellus, when on the two preceding evenings he

had repaired to the garden in the Valley of Jehosaphat, and returned

without any tidings of Naomi; but he encouraged him in his

determination to visit the appointed spot on each following night,

and wait in patient hope for better success. All that hope was now

gone, and Marcellus hastened to his kind commander to communicate to

him how all his expectations had been frustrated, and his fears that

Naomi might even be subjected to oppression and restraint, in

consequence of the discovery which had been made by her brother of

his unsuccessful attempt to rescue her from impending evil.

The young soldier and his veteran father were immediately admitted

into the presence of Titus, who was busily engaged in looking over

plans and maps of Jerusalem and the surrounding country, and

revolving in his mind the plans of future proceedings, and the best

mode of commencing an attack on the rebellious city. He ceased from

his employment on the entrance of his visitors, and heard the account

of their meeting with Javan with attentive interest, and sincere

commiseration with the mortified feelings of Marcellus. The only

consolation which he could offer him was in the prospect of a speedy

vengeance on the crafty Jew, and the possibility of saving and

rescuing Naomi when the Roman arms should have conquered Zion, and a

way should be opened for their entrance within her proud walls. But

Marcellus knew that much of danger and suffering might befall his

beloved Naomi long ere the courage and obstinacy of the Jews should

be subdued, and the eagles glitter on the conquered towers of

Jerusalem. He knew the unyielding and determined character of their

opponents better even than Titus did, and he anticipated a long and

desperate resistance to all their efforts. He shuddered at the idea

of Naomi being exposed to all the privations and miseries, all the

horrors and excesses of a besieged and vanquished city; and he

retired to his own tent for the night, with feelings of anxiety and

dread that effectually banished sleep from his eyes.

The signal for rising and engaging in active employment was welcome

to him; and after the first and most solemn occupations of the day

had engaged his attention in the retirement of his tent, he gladly

went forth among his comrades, and tried to forget his own personal

anxieties in the zealous performance of those duties which fell to

his lot in the discipline of the camp. It was the custom in the

Roman army for all the soldiers to repair in the morning to the

centurions of their respective bands, and offer to them a respectful

salutation. The centurions paid the same compliment to the tribunes,

and they in their turn waited on the general or commanding officer,

to proffer their services, and receive from him the watchword for the

day, and the orders which they were to deliver to their inferior

officers. These forms were attentively observed in the camp of

Titus, and the tribune who presided over that part of the army to

which the equestrian troop was attached, was commanded to prepare six

hundred horsemen for an expedition to reconnoitre the wall of the

city that morning. He was also desired to inform Marcellus that his

attendance was required in the general's tent. He gladly obeyed the

summons, for he hoped to be allowed to take a part in the intended

movement; and any occupation of that kind was preferable to passing

his time idly in the camp, and indulging his own painful reflections.

[Illustration: THE ESCAPE OF TITUS.]

He was not disappointed, for Titus immediately communicated to him

his plans, and desired him to be in readiness to accompany him, as

his personal attendant, in an hour's time. They sallied forth at the

hour appointed, a gallant band of horsemen, splendidly mounted and

equipped, and soon appeared on the summit of the heights that looked

on the walls of Jerusalem. As they wound down the last declivities

that sloped at the foot of the walls they gazed in astonishment at

the turbulent city. Not a man appeared upon the battlements--not a

sound of preparation for resistance or attack was heard; even the

gates seemed to be deserted, and that scene of violence to be hushed

in perfect peace and repose. Titus led his squadron to the right,

and passing the angle of the wall which was guarded by the Women's

Tower, to the north-east of the city, he filed off towards the Tower

of Psephina, which occupied an important situation on the north-west

side, near the upper fountain. Suddenly the gates behind him were

thrown open, and a vast multitude rushed tumultuously forth, and

threw themselves upon the troop of cavalry. Some succeeded in

passing the squadron, and placed themselves across the road by which

it was advancing, and others burst violently through their ranks and

separated their enemies into two parties. Titus was cut off from the

remainder of his troop, with Marcellus and a few other brave

followers. He could not advance, for the ground before him was

divided into orchards and gardens, fenced round with walls and deep

ditches, besides broad watercourses that reached to the walls of the

city. To retreat was almost as impossible, for thousands of his

assailants crowded between him and his troops, to intercept his

movements in that direction. Titus saw that the only chance of

escape lay in a desperate effort of strength and courage. He called

loudly to his men to keep close to him, and with Marcellus at his

side he urged forward his noble steed and charged fiercely on those

who opposed him. Hundreds of javelins and arrows were discharged at

him, and every effort was made to obstruct his passage and secure his

person; but though he wore neither helmet nor breastplate,--for he

had not anticipated that he was going forth to battle,--yet he did

not receive a single wound, but passed through the cloud of missiles

unharmed. With his sword he cleared a passage before him, while his

well-trained charger crushed beneath his feet the wounded enemies who

fell around. Marcellus bravely seconded him, and thus did they

cleave their way through the dense mass that surrounded them and

shouted for their destruction. The undaunted courage of Titus and

his young companion excited the admiring wonder of the Jews. They

exhorted one another to rush forward and secure the inestimable prize

that seemed within their reach; yet still they shrank away from the

rapid strokes of his bloody sword and the irresistible force of his

fiery steed, as he slowly and steadily made his way through the

crowd. His band of devoted followers formed around him as well as

they could, and with a trifling loss the party at length reached the

Valley of Thorns, and escaped from their pursuers. Two only were

missing from this brave company--one had been surrounded, and with

his horse pierced with countless arrows and javelins--the other

dismounted incautiously, and was instantly overpowered and slain, and

his horse led away in triumph into the city.

The exultation and joy of the Jews at this event were unbounded. It

is true but a small advantage had been gained, yet they regarded it

as the happy presage of future victory. Titus himself, the noble and

all-conquering Titus, had been forced to fly, and nothing now seemed

too great for their hopes and expectations. The news ran through the

city with the speed of lightning, and the superstitious inhabitants

hailed it as a token that the Lord would give them the victory, and

that His arm would now be stretched out to save them. Javan shared

the general enthusiasm, and with his pious father gave thanks to the

God of Israel for this token of his favour and protection; and Simon

thought it politic to encourage the same feeling among his troops.

In his own cold calculating heart he trusted more to the strength of

his army than to the invisible arm of Jehovah; but he knew that the

Jews, however sunk in sin, and regardless of the laws of the God and

their fathers, yet looked on themselves as his own peculiar people,

whom he would save and defend from all those who sought their ruin.

Therefore he joined with Zadok and his ardent son in openly ascribing

the late signal success to the special interposition of their

Heavenly Father, and in exhorting his men to courage and

perseverance, under the assurance that the Divine aid would attend

all their efforts, and enable them to baffle every attempt of their

foes to deprive them of their freedom or their inheritance.

Zadok returned to his home that evening full of bright hopes and holy

confidence, and he endeavoured to inspire Salome and his daughter

with the same feelings, but in vain. Naomi ever remembered the sad

prophetic words once uttered by her Lord and Saviour, and she knew

that the ruin of Jerusalem was drawing nigh. Salome too had learnt

from her to believe that not one jot or tittle of what he had

pronounced should ever pass away unfulfilled; and her own naturally

timid and desponding disposition had made her more readily assent to

the truth of his declarations of punishment and woe, than to his

promises of pardon and acceptance. She could easily believe that her

nation should be brought low and her beautiful city destroyed, for

the wickedness of them that dwelt therein; but she could not so

easily apply to herself the equally clear assurance that those who

put their trust in the Lord should be safe under the shadow of his

wings--that those who believed in the Son of God should be cleansed

from all sin--pardoned, justified, saved, and glorified, without any

merit of their own, or any claim on the mercy of an offended God, but

a simple reliance on the atonement of his Son Jesus.

Salome's heart was weak, and when Zadok looked to see her pallid

countenance lighted up with joy at the account which he gave her of

her people's triumph, he was grieved to observe her turn away and

weep. Gladly would she have told him all her fears and all her

anxieties, but her courage failed her, and she could only show by her

dejection that she was insensible to the hopes of temporal glory and

prosperity that animated her husband's breast, and unable to reveal

to him the eternal hopes that, however dimly and faintly, cheered her

own spirit and lightened her earthly sorrows. Zadok attributed her

depression of spirits entirely to her present weak state of health,

and he gently reproached Naomi for not using better endeavours to

amuse her mother's mind, and at the same time regretted that he was

so much occupied in the discharge of his sacred duties, and in the

affairs of the city, as to have but little leisure to devote to his

wife. Had he suspected the subject which formed the chief and

constant theme of discourse between Salome and his daughter during

his absence from home, he would still more deeply have regretted the

state of public affairs that had compelled him to leave them so much

alone, and expose his beloved wife to a danger which he regarded as

far more to be dreaded than any temporal evils.

He had contented himself with the conviction which he entertained of

Salome's pious attachment to the religion in which she had been

brought up, and her implicit submission to his judgment in all

spiritual matters. He also felt assured that her mind was not of

that active and inquiring nature that would lead her, like Naomi, to

investigate any new opinions or receive the truth of any new

doctrines. He knew that she had a great veneration for the rabbi

Joazer, and had always considered his opinion as a rule of faith; and

when he requested him to watch over her bodily sickness, he also

charged him to lose no opportunity of strengthening and establishing

her spiritual health. Thus he believed that he had no cause to fear

that the heresy he so much dreaded would ever be communicated to her,

and he was well satisfied that the devoted affection of Naomi should

watch over her, and provide for her every comfort and attention that

her present precarious state of health required. Little did this

priest of the Most High God understand the power of that faith which

he despised. Little did he know of those influences of the Holy

Spirit which can change the whole nature of the soul, and infuse a

thirst after the truth that nothing else can satisfy. Little did he

know of that strength of the Lord Jesus, which is made perfect in our

weakness, and which was then silently and gradually working in the

soul of Salome, transforming her weakness into strength--her fears

into holy confidence--and inspiring her with such an assured hope of

pardon and eternal bliss as should at length shine forth resplendent

amid the struggles of departing life, and make her triumphant over

all that hitherto she had trembled to contemplate.

As yet this power from on high was not perfected in her soul, and she

was in bondage to the fears of death and the occasional dread of

God's wrath; and notwithstanding all the efforts which Naomi made

again and again to chase away her fears and fill her with humble

trust in the promised support of her Heavenly Father, and the

atonement once offered on the cross to wipe away all her sins, she

was subject to frequent temptations and doubts, that clouded her

views and marred her peace.

Zadok knew nothing of all her spiritual trials, and he frequently

talked to her of the joys that would be her portion, if it pleased

the Lord to remove her from this world of care, and the reward that

would follow her constant obedience to His laws, and her humble trust

in His mercy towards His chosen people. But the ground of his hopes

was not that on which Salome had learned to rest, and the humility

which she had acquired at the foot of the cross made her shudder at

the spirit of self-confidence that tarnished the piety even of the

upright Zadok. Night and morning he prayed with her, and repeatedly

he read the Scriptures to her: but the form of his supplications,

however earnest, now sounded imperfect in her ears, and his comments

on the word of inspiration grieved her heart. Oh, could she but have

heard him, who was dearer to her than all the world besides, pouring

forth the desires of his heart in the name of Jesus of

Nazareth--could she have heard him acknowledge the "Man of sorrows"

to be Him of whom Moses and the prophets did speak, how joyfully

could she have borne every other trial, and even, she thought, have

encountered death with a smile, in the assured hope of his following

her to those mansions which Christ has prepared for his disciples!

And yet she could not at that time command her faltering tongue to

declare in whom she believed, and entreat her husband to seek refuge

in the ark provided for the day of calamity.

The evening passed away in the usual unsatisfactory manner; and the

following day brought with it events that occupied Zadok's attention

even more than before, and engrossed even more of his time.

Titus had returned to his camp in the Valley of Thorns, greatly

exasperated at the unexpected attack which had been made on him, and

determined to lose no time in commencing the siege of the offending

city. During the night he was joined by one of the legions which he

had left at Emmaus, and orders were immediately issued for the

removal of the camp to a place called Scopus, within a mile from the

outer wall, and so situated as to afford a fine view of the city, and

of the level plain which extended to the base of the fortifications.

At break of day the business of removing the army and all its

ponderous equipments commenced, and was performed with all that

astonishing expedition and order that distinguished every movement of

the well-trained Roman armies. Orders had been given the night

before for the men to be in readiness; and soon after the sun rose,

all the tents were taken down and packed in the waggons, with the

rest of the heavy baggage. Then the first signal-trumpet blew, and

at its sound the troops all fell into their ranks, each carrying

their arms, their kitchen furniture, and their instruments for

constructing fortifications. The second trumpet sounded, and

instantly fire was set to temporary bulwarks and towers that had

surrounded the encampment, and quickly they formed a blazing mass of

ruin. The third and last signal sounded loud and long, and then the

herald, who stood by the side of Titus, raised his voice, and

demanded whether the troops were prepared for battle; and he was

answered by a cheerful and universal shout of assent. Three times he

repeated the same demand, and each time the deafening shout of the

armed multitude replied to him, while the hands of the troops were

raised on high to express their readiness and zeal.

The word of command was given, and that glorious array of invincible

men marched simultaneously forward. Alas! that such a goodly

assembly should be moving in all their pride and pomp towards the

slaughter of millions of their fellow-creatures, and the destruction

of the noblest and most sacred city that ever adorned the earth! The

army advanced in the usual order of march: the allies led the way

attended by the company of pioneers, and then the baggage of the

officers, escorted by a strong guard. Titus himself followed with a

select guard of spearmen and the cavalry belonging to the legions.

The military engines, strongly guarded, formed the next detachment;

and to these succeeded the sacred standards, attended by the

trumpeters; then the legionaries in their phalanx, ten deep; the

slaves with the baggage; and, last of all, the mercenary troops, with

a strong rear-guard to keep order.

The equipment of this fine army was as admirable as the order and

discipline that marked its movement. Nothing vain or superfluous was

to be seen in the dress or ornaments of either the men or their

officers; while at the same time it was evident that the Romans knew

the value of a certain degree of show, and endeavoured to produce an

imposing effect upon their adversaries. The accoutrements of the

officers were superb and costly: their helmets, cuirasses, and swords

were inlaid with silver and gold, and their beautiful and spirited

steeds were richly caparisoned; while the common soldiers prided

themselves on their well-polished shields and helmets. The numerous

gilded banners which attended the army, in addition to the glittering

eagles, increased the brilliance of the scene; and the whole of that

numerous army looked rather as if they were attired and equipped for

a public feast, than as if carnage and desolation were their only

objects.

The Romans formed a second encampment near Scopus, two legions being

in front, and a third at some distance in the rear; and while they

were erecting their walls and towers of defence, the tenth legion,

which had taken its route by Jericho, also arrived, and received

immediate orders to pitch their tents at the foot of the Mount of

Olives, facing the lofty temple walls and pinnacles.

Each of the leaders of the rival factions in the city beheld the

hostile camps forming under their walls. Eleazar looked from the

summit of the temple, John from the porticoes of the outer courts,

and Simon from the heights of Zion; and for the first time they all

became aware that their only chance of safety lay in a united effort

to repel their formidable enemies. They entered into negociations of

peace; and at length agreed to lay aside their mutual animosities,

and combine their now divided forces for a simultaneous attack on the

common foe. Zadok and Javan hailed this tardy reconciliation as a

second omen that the Lord was on their side, and that he had inclined

these fierce and hitherto implacable enemies to forget their personal

hatred, and only contend with a valiant emulation who should be

foremost in rushing on their assailants. Joyfully did the son of

Zadok obey the call to arms, and hasten to join his leader. He was

at his father's house when the summons reached him. He had returned

to his home in search of a part of his armour for the expected sally;

and Salome heard with trembling fear the call for her son to join his

comrades. She gave him a mother's parting blessing; and when he was

gone from her sight, she passed the anxious hours that succeeded in

fervent prayers for his safety. How earnestly did she beseech her

Heavenly Father to spare his life, and not suffer him to be hurried

into eternity while his soul was a prey to evil passions and baneful

prejudices! Naomi united in her mother's supplications; and while

they were thus engaged, a fierce and bloody scene was going forward

in the Valley of Jehosaphat.

The combined forces of Jerusalem had sallied out by the eastern

gates, and rushing along the margin of the Kedron, had fallen with

unexpected and irresistible fury upon the tenth legion, then busily

occupied in constructing their camp. The soldiers were at work in

their intrenchments, and many of them were unarmed. They retreated

before the sudden attack of the Jews, and several of them were killed

before they could regain their arms. Fresh swarms of their

assailants still poured from the city, and in their consternation the

Romans yet further multiplied their numbers. Accustomed as they were

to fight in battle-array, they knew not how to resist the wild

desultory attacks of the Jews, who rushed upon them with a blind

impetuosity. Sometimes they turned and faced their pursuers, and

succeeded in repulsing them for a moment and slaying the foremost;

but such overpowering numbers followed to take their places, that the

brave legionaries were on the verge of a total defeat, when Titus,

who had heard of their danger, came suddenly to their relief. He was

attended by a few picked men, and fell so unexpectedly on the Jews

that he drove them up the valley with considerable loss.

The tenth legion now rallied, and united with the troops that

followed Titus in pursuing the enemy along the valley; but

notwithstanding the disadvantage to which the Jews were exposed, from

the steepness and inequality of the ground, they yet had the courage

to turn and face their pursuers after they had crossed the brook. In

this situation they maintained the battle till noon, when Titus

placed a part of his forces at the end of the valley, and sent the

rest to occupy a strong position on the heights above, in order to

secure the valley. This movement was mistaken by the Jews for a

retreat; and a sentinel who had been posted on the walls, made a

signal to those within the city that the Romans had fled. Instantly

a fresh multitude issued from the gates with the undisciplined fury

of wild beasts, and bore down the ranks of their enemies by the

impetuosity of their charge. They fled to the mountains, and once

more Titus and his chosen band of attendants were left exposed to the

attack of the infuriated multitude. He was posted on the declivity

of the hill, when he found himself deserted by the main body of his

forces; but taking advantage of his commanding situation, he defended

himself resolutely, while Marcellus and his comrades endeavoured to

ward off the blows that were aimed at him on every side.

One of the Jews, who had distinguished himself throughout the

engagement by his intrepid courage, advanced through the crowd of his

countrymen to the spot where Titus and his brave company stood like

lions holding the inferior animals at bay. With a desperate effort

he broke through the Roman band, and aimed a deadly blow at their

general. So wild and sudden was his attack, that he would probably

have succeeded, at least in wounding Titus, whose attention was

directed another way, but for the courage and activity of Marcellus.

He saw the descending blow, and quick as thought he sprang between

his commander and the fierce Jew, and arrested the weapon ere it

reached the destined object. The flashing eyes of the Jewish soldier

fell upon him who had thus robbed him of the triumph so nearly won,

and Marcellus saw that he was again brought hand to hand in conflict

with the brother of Naomi. Revenge was a passion that lurked deep in

Javan's heart, and now it rose up to animate him against the young

Roman. He forgot his eagerness to rush upon the general, in the hope

that now he had found an opportunity of obtaining vengeance for all

the injuries that his prejudiced mind laid to the charge of Marcellus.

With a bitter curse on his lips, he turned to aim his sword at the

heart of the Christian soldier, and was astonished at the strength

and dexterity with which his attack was met by his opponent.

Marcellus would not for worlds have slain the brother of his beloved

Naomi, and he contented himself with warding off the fierce blows of

Javan. Had this single combat been permitted to continue for any

length of time, Marcellus must have been driven either to seek the

life of his antagonist, or to save his own by a retreat, for Javan

was resolved to die or to conquer. But happily they were forced

asunder by the rush of combatants on either side, and they met no